Turning four only happens once in a person’s life. Each year of life should be memorable, and it all starts with the birthday party! My fourth birthday party was combined with my younger sister’s considering we are only ten and a half months apart. Our party was in a small town called Portland in the big city of Louisville, Kentucky. We had everything we could possibly want at the ages of three and four at our party. Cake. Balloons. Presents. Family. Friends. It was all there. Our Nana and Grandpa were even there from Alabama. The party was just like any other, or so we thought. Our entire world was destroyed when our biological father showed up. Although he was still a part of our lives at this point, it was still the scariest thing I have …show more content…
I can give you a description based off his mugshot and prison records, but that is about it. With that being said, Michael Richard Jones, Jr. is approximately six feet, one inch tall. He weighs two-hundred and eighty pounds and is thirty-seven years old. He has sad, sunk-in hazel eyes and brown hair. A crooked “smile” and a beard also occupy his face. However, this is not how I remember him. I remember him being rather short and on the skinnier side. He had a happy smile and sweet eyes. When I think back on the memories I have of him, some of them are happy. They contain us coloring together, playing outside, and him visiting us when we moved back to Alabama. He was full of love in those memories. Unfortunately, that love was replaced with hate and deceit. My other memories of him include him abusing my mother, stealing from stores, and taking things from my mother’s home. These things tend to stick out more vividly in my mind when I think back on times with him. Sadly, this is probably how I will always remember him, but that is okay. He has put my life through absolute hell. He chose his “gang” and life of destruction over his family. I was old enough to realize a lot that went on, while my sister and brother do not remember much. I am thankful that they do not though. I would not wish the terrible memories that I have of him on …show more content…
I have spent more of my life without him than I have with him, and I think I have turned out alright. I was number seven in my class of ninety-two in high school. I was the color guard co-captain during my senior year. I received multiple scholarships and went on to go to college. I will graduate college in four years with a degree in psychology or sociology. After graduation, I will become a Mental Health Counselor and help those that come from the same background as I do or even worse. I will use my knowledge of what my biological father did to me and my family and help others to overcome their own adversities. Once I have accomplished these things, and he is finally out of prison, I do not want him to come looking for me. I am done with him. I have moved on and put the things that he did to me and my family in the past. I have nothing to say to him, and I do not want to hear what he has to say to me. He made his decision a long time ago, and that is what shall
I was awful young enough to not fully be aware of the entire situation. What I did know was that I didn’t want to move into a new house, attend a new school, and definitely not live without my dad. Adapting to my new and different surroundings was very hard for me. I was upset with my dad for his actions because he was the cause of all the changes. I was mainly angry with my mom though for her decision. To my eight year old self, I felt as if it wasn’t fair. I was her precious girl and entire world and I knew she would do anything to see my happy. For that particular reason was why i couldn 't comprehend her decision. I wasn 't happy with the outcome, I hoped she would forgive him and we could be a family
My fifteenth birthday was celebrated like any other, as was my sixteenth. They were both filled with joy, as I realized that even with the weight of culture on my shoulders, it was who I spent my coming of age with, not where I was or what it signified. I was surrounded by friends and family that love and care for me; who know that age is just a number. It’s my character that defines my maturity, and they looked at me no lesser than if my birthdays had been filled with frills and ceremony. In fact, they may think better of
I do not have any memories of my own father as a child. I met him when I was about fourteen years old. My mother and grandmother, with the help of my uncles and aunt, raised me. Although I had strong positive male role models in my life, there was always the void of my father that I dealt with on a daily basis. I can remember at a young age, before blowing out the candles on my birthday cake, I would wish that my father would show up to my party. I had elaborate daydreams of him coming back into my life and doing things with me like I saw on television. It never happened. While walking to the train station one evening my uncle casually said to me “there’s your father” as if I saw him on an everyday basis. I didn’t...
When a wife surprises her husband on his birthday, an ironic turn of events occurs. Katherine Brush’s “The Birthday Party” is a short story about relationships, told from the perspective of a nearby observer. Brush uses the words and actions of the married couple to assert that a relationship based on selfishness is weak.
He abused me. He later went to jail for stealing and I never saw him again. We never divorced, I refused to hit a man while he was down. I work as a waitress after. I met Clyde through a friend. We went on a few dates and he swore that his criminal ways were over, but was later taken to jail for stealing. I knew I had to get him out for we had fallen deeply in love. I smuggled in a gun and he escaped, but was taken back later and sentenced for 14 years. Two years later he was bailed out by his mother because of an injury. He had an inmate chopped off one of his toes, resulting in a permanent limp. Clyde and I were reunited and Clyde and a group of men started robbing again. I joined the gang in April but was caught in a failed robbery attempt. I was imprisoned for two months, but was never found guilty, I mean why would a girl do such a thing, rob, steal, no I was a lady and a good church going girl, not a criminal. I lied through the whole court case. Clyde and I embarked on our two year crime spree. We took part in many robberies. One time the newspaper put my sophomore picture in the newspaper. Clyde saw the newspaper and my tears and decided that we had to update my image, so he got a camera and took pictures and sent them to the
Thomas Robertson is a 37-year-old male, who has been involved in crime since a very young age. He lives in a low socio-economic area, and has lived there since he was a child. His family was unsupportive, and unavailable for Thomas throughout his childhood. His older brother brought him into a group of his friends at the age of 12, and revealed them to be a chapter of a gang when Thomas turned 13. Thomas was charged with multiple, separate, thefts from small businesses, malls, and convenience stores around the city. He has been charged with assault, public mischief, and a count of possession of a controlled substance for the purpose of trafficking. His most recent charge was for assault causing bodily injury and
I was fourteen years old when my life suddenly took a turn for the worse and I felt that everything I worked so hard for unexpectedly vanished. I had to become an adult at the tender age of fourteen. My mother divorced my biological father when I was two years old, so I never had a father. A young child growing up without a father is tough. I often was confused and wondered why I had to bring my grandfather to the father/daughter dance. There was an occurrence of immoral behavior that happened in my household. These depraved occurrences were often neglected. The first incident was at the beach, then my little sisters’ birthday party, and all the other times were overlooked.
Although we started to live with our new family June 4, 2004, we officially got adopted on February 18, 2005. This family was very ice and made us feel like we were at home. We were sad that we could not stay with the other family we did enjoy this family too. The first summer we lived with them we went to Disney world ,which was a lot of fun. I remember being super scared on a ride that was like the power tower but it was dark, and being 6 I was scared out of my mind.
In the short story “Birthday Party” by Katherine Bush, Bush uses an intriguing effect of observation and imagination. The purpose of writing the essay is for the audience to imagine themselves being the “us” that sits on the opposite side of the “little narrow restaurant.” Bush begins her story by introducing the audience to the characters and setting. She writes, “the man had a round, self-satisfied face, with glasses on it” while “the woman was fadingly poetry.” Bush’s use of the imagery vividly allows her audience understand the characters and setting.
On that fateful day in March, I was a couple months shy of my third birthday. My family and I lived in New Mexico at the time and were renting a house with an outdoor in-ground pool. The day was beautiful. I was outside with my oldest sister Rachel and my father. Rachel was diligently reading curled up on a bench that sat against the house, and my father was mowing the backyard. My mother and my other sister were in the house. Off to one side of the house there was a group of large bushes. I was playing over there with one of her large cooking pots, off in my own little world. At one point while amusing and en...
Planning a Party The process of planning a party takes a lot of time and focus to get every detail covered. First of all, you must decide where you will have the party, maybe a club house or your own home. When you have that decided, then there are several other steps you must take in order for your party to be successful. You have decided on a location, and now it is time to make a list of the people who will be attending.
I can still remember that day. All the beauty of nature collected in one moment. I can still feel the sponginess of the winter-aged leaves under my feet. I felt as though I was walking on a cloud, the softness of the leaves cushioning my every step, they were guiding me along the wooded path to a small creek. The humming of the water moving with the crispness of the air, together they were singing a promise of a fresh and clean new season. It was a beautiful spring that year. Every so often a day like that comes back and I am reminded of posing for our picture together.
Up until March 5th of 2009, I had been an only child. Many big changes occurred in my life the year prior to the birth of my new brother. My mom became remarried, we moved to a bigger house down the same street, and there was talk of a new baby in the future. The remarriage was a small celebration held at a quaint location on a chilly fall night, a night you would rather be snuggled up on the couch with warm, fuzzy blankets drinking from a mug of hot cocoa. The move was a breeze, as I can just about see the old house through the tall maple trees from the new. I carried whatever I could back and forth, running quickly back down the street to grab more. The excitement of a new house chasing me to and from. Lastly, the talk of a sibling. I wasn’t sure what to think. The thought of a sister excited me, but a brother not so much. I wanted to share my dolls and dress up, not have to play with mud and trucks. Despite my wants, I had a feeling it was going to be a boy. The day of the ultrasound, I made a bet with my step-dad the baby would be a boy. After, I was a dollar richer and a sister of a brother to be. Having to wait a few more months to meet the little guy would be torture, as the anticipation was killing me slowly. I may not have been ready for the changes made and the ones to come, but I took them like a champ.
Battling a miscarriage a couple years prior, my mother was feeling mixed emotions. Around this time, I was a senior in high school so the news was neutral for me being that I was the only child for eighteen years. I did not know if I should rejoice or complain because I was leaving for college soon. My brother was born about two weeks before my high school graduation, and I must say that it was a very intense and complicated birth being that my mother was nearly forty giving birth to her second child.
I could have been a super senior or a drop out altogether. I could have been a father struggling with finances. I could have been a drug addict and not be writing this three page essay that ruins weekends, and for that I am thankful that my dad didn’t let things slide that weren’t right. I am kind of happy he threatened me with military school when I was in middle school, I was a handful, I would get kicked out of class constantly but I stayed in school, years later I would be walking down my high school football stadium class of 2016 for my graduation, both my parents stressed it that it was the utmost importance to graduate, both my mother and father pushed me to get good enough grades to graduate. My dad would try to teach me math, I hated math so much it was my least favorite subject, I was more of a history type of guy. He would try his best to help me in school, but i just needed the motivation to get me started, I personally didn’t think i would graduate high school, he gave me the courage to do so, it was a requirement to him, I see some kids drop out or go to adult school to get a G.E.D but having a high school degree was better, I still got to enjoy my years as a teen, having fun with friends, hanging out, I just had to follow certain guidelines to not get me into trouble. In highschool I was never a bad kid though, it was in middle school I was a little shit who thought i runned things but no, my dad was the big boss. The most i probably got in trouble was when I came home really late around 12:00 AM with my girlfriend, but he wasn’t mad at the fact I was out with her very late, it was the fact that I didn’t let him know where I was, he started to loosen his grip about me going out slowly over my four years in highschool, I just needed to tell him I was getting home late, and there shouldn’t be a problem what so ever. Even when I go party my dad wants me to be safe, I tell him who I go with and